


Light Up My Life

by theglamourfades



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hanukkah, Jewish Wanda Maximoff, POV Alternating, Sweet Vision (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglamourfades/pseuds/theglamourfades
Summary: Vision's quest to learn all he can about human existence leads him to take a particular interest in the holiday season. But someone is missing from the festivities at The Avengers compound, which makes things decidedly less worth celebrating.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 28
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ScarletVision festive fic, because I couldn't resist. Really this is four parts fluff and not a lot else because these two deserve it so much.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

Humans were an infinite source of wonder for Vision. He had initially imagined that it would take a matter of weeks to learn everything there was to know about them, and in turn to internalise their patterns of behaviour, to achieve a near-perfect replication to utilise for himself as he lay the foundations of his existence.

As it went, he had come to realise that he was far more naïve than anyone – including himself, in his foolishness – had expected him to be.

Months on from his creation, he was continuing to discover many things about humans. It seemed that they possessed an endless amount of quirks and idiosyncrasies, with an almost unfathomable variation between each individual. Some days were spent in a state of listlessness which it was very hard to dismiss as he seriously considered that, despite all of his best efforts, he would never come close enough as he desired to being thought of as one of them (he was not so deluded as to consider that any of them would ever honestly see him as their equal).

The latest phenomenon that he had picked up upon was their extreme fondness for occasion. As he understood it, if a certain event or individual was revered enough then humans would take great pleasure in celebrating, sometimes for more than one day. It was a strange occurrence, but one which he found to be joyful on the whole, witnessing the lengths that would be gone to in order to create happiness and elation, merely for the sake of it.

There had been consecutive occasions lately, winding into one another. First there was Hallowe'en, which Vision did not find himself caring for all that much. From what he could determine it appeared to consist of an escalation of stunts which became steadily more elaborate, as Mr Stark, Colonel Rhodes and Sergeant Wilson competed to cause the highest elevation of terror in one another. Captain Rogers refrained from taking part, being disapproving of such sport, and both Miss Romanoff and Miss Maximoff – Wanda – were completely unaffected by the plastic severed heads and limbs that fell from opened doors and shrieks of screams that sounded from darkness, belonging to a subsequently deflated Colonel Rhodes.

Thanksgiving followed, a holiday which Captain Rogers did enjoy. Unfortunately as it was largely centered around consuming copious amounts of food, Vision was unable to experience a comparable level of satisfaction, though he did like viewing the parade which stretched through the city. Wanda sat with him by the large window of the compound as the floats and incredibly-oversized balloons drifted below, similarly experiencing the spectacle for the first time.

He liked that he was able to share certain events with someone else who was also coming to them new and with no expectation. Though Wanda had much more experience than he did, it meant that he did not feel quite so isolated. One of the first and most troubling things he had internalised was the near-physical sorrow and abject fear of being alone, and though surely it did not trouble him in the same way as humans felt it, it still resonated, almost as a preternatural force more powerful than anything that contributed to his creation.

For reasons he could not find legitimate explanation for, he was especially pleased that it was Wanda he happened to find such kinship with, opposed to, for example, Sergeant Wilson. Though he would not have found it troubling if that had been the case.

Barely a week had passed since that last holiday and preparations were being made for the next, with particular enthusiasm by Mr Stark, who declared it to be his most favourite of all. That appeared to be reasonable justification for the many modifications he had made, with the much-valued contributions of his robotic assistants, to the Avengers compound in the preceding days. Indeed, there was not a space that had been left untouched by adornment.

Captain Rogers was keen to voice one opinion in the light of Mr Stark's efforts, Vision sensing that it was something that the Captain felt strongly about.

_"Sure, there's a place for these fancy high-tech contraptions, but when it comes to the main attraction, we've got to keep it traditional."_

It was down to Captain Rogers' super strength that an eight-foot fir tree stood, pride of place, in the main lounge area, not too far away from the window that looked out upon the city.

Even in its natural state it was a wonderful spectacle. He gravitated towards it, allowing himself to levitate so that he was able to take in the full scope. The scent in particular was intriguing, not all of the notes ones which he could classify at first but in combination they were most pleasant.

On the ground Captain Rogers and Colonel Rhodes were holding a long string of wire between them, maneuvering one way and then another in attempts to untangle it. It should have been a very simple task, by all accounts, but as he came closer down again it transpired to be far more complicated, the wire tightly knotted in various places.

Captain Rogers let slip a couple of muttered expletives during the task, which earned sniggers of laughter and a mocking call of "Language!" from Colonel Rhodes. Mr Stark briefly emerged from his lab on hearing his friend's exclamation.

"Pipe down, Capsicle. I don't want you corrupting my robo-son with your filthy mouth."

"Hey, Vision," Colonel Rhodes intoned after the feat was achieved, "we could really do with someone who has the ability to fly unaided to get these fixed to the top."

"Of course –

Miss Romanoff's hand clamped upon his arm before he could glide towards Colonel Rhodes and the string that was trailed across the floor.

"The lights are the worst job," she explained helpfully, a knowing smile curving her lips. "Let's leave those three to it, and once they're done we can work on the baubles. Sound good?"

"I will take your word for it, Miss Romanoff."

Captain Rogers, Colonel Rhodes and Sergeant Wilson did admirably, managing very well between them to cover the tree without the aid of either Colonel Rhodes' War Machine suit or Sergeant Wilson's Falcon wings. Captain Rogers made an announcement before turning the switch, which appeared to amuse Miss Romanoff.

There fell a collective silence as the lights started to life, emitting a soft glow within the compound as they gently twinkled. Vision in particular was awed by the display, moving nearer to the tree along with Miss Romanoff, who held a box of baubles in her hands. Though relatively simple – certainly in contrast to anything comparable that Mr Stark could invent – they were beautiful, the way their clear, bright light danced, illuminating and casting a marvellous shimmer upon what was not dark to begin with.

He felt simultaneously serene and thrilled as he looked upon them, the sensation a peculiar but vastly elevating one. He did not know enough of it to comment, and was still struggling to come to terms with the concept, but he suspected that gazing upon these lights came close to witnessing _magic_ , in its purest form.

"Okay?" Miss Romanoff's voice rose softly in the silence, her question undoubtedly directed towards him.

"Yes," he replied, after a pause, allowing himself the time to compartmentalise – as much as he was able. "I find them…remarkable. Like the stars, if it were possible to collect them from the sky and keep them close at all hours of the day."

He turned his face towards Miss Romanoff once a few minutes had passed and saw the glow reflected upon her features, changing the colour of her hair to a gentler flame. Her eyes were soft and her smile understanding. It was not until later that he became aware that her gaze had been drawn to the stone that resided in his head, though he had registered a shifting in its energy at the time, primarily through a small but discernible rise in temperature.

Captain Rogers turned the switch back to its previous position, and though he was initially saddened by the disappearance of the lights he was soon glad, for they would have proved to be too much of a distraction when it came to resuming the decoration of the tree. Miss Romanoff passed a steady stream of baubles into his hands, and it did not go unnoticed that they were predominantly red and gold, though there were some blue, green, crimson and purple – and even black. There were also six silver baubles, each etched with an Avengers crest.

"I have to tell Tony to get more of these made," Miss Romanoff said as she held the one which also bore an etching of an arrow above its crest. "We need another four."

Vision's gaze was empathetic as he looked down upon her, noticing that she clung onto the bauble for a while before moving to place it upon a prominent branch.

"You know, there's a whole bunch of festive versions of those sweaters you like to wear," Sergeant Wilson addressed him with a smirk from the other side of the tree, "we definitely need to get you some. In fact, I think you ought to wear a different one every day up to New Years', to make up for December already having started."

"I appreciate your attempt at humour, Sergeant Wilson. You have made it considerably easier to decide what I should purchase as a present for you. Though I will have to narrow down the options, there are many fine comedians playing in New York."

"Ooh, _burn_ ," Miss Romanoff exclaimed, while Colonel Rhodes chuckled, "that was a good one."

Sergeant Wilson took the comment admirably, patting his hand against Vision's shoulder.

"I think it's looking pretty good," he appraised as they all stood back to admire the finished tree.

"We'll see what Tony thinks," Captain Rogers said from behind them, "he always has the final say."

"I didn't see him getting involved, so I think that negates him getting to have a say," Sergeant Wilson retorted, arms folded across his chest. "Anyway he's Iron Man, not… _Christmas Man_."

"Now that's a superhero I'd like to see," Colonel Rhodes laughed.

Vision had been acutely aware that Mr Stark was not the only one missing from the scene. Though it had been an enjoyable task there was a hollow apparent within him and the whole atmosphere in the lack of Wanda, and he found himself mourning that she had not taken part. Indeed, he had not seen her since the day's training had finished earlier in the afternoon.

The others continued to talk and laugh as they stood around the once-again illuminated tree, apparently unfazed by the absence of their colleague and friend. In contrast, Vision's concerns grew larger by the second. Terrible notions filled his head, ones which he had repeatedly told Wanda were not true. _She was not an outsider. She was not any trouble. They all wanted her there._

Him most of all.

Before the suffocating feelings could overwhelm him he glided up the stairs and along the corridor, until he found himself outside her door, the neurons hidden underneath his synthetic skin feeling as if they were about to explode.

He was about to phase through the closed door but stopped himself in time, remembering what Wanda had told him about knocking. His hand moved slowly, unsure of his hesitation, issuing a gentle but audible tap.

"Wanda," he began, a little caught between the impetus of being polite and wishing to express what he really wanted to discern as soon as possible, "I noticed that you retreated here several hours ago. I apologise if I am intruding, but I felt compelled to check on your welfare."

She did not answer straight away, but it did not cause him great alarm; he had come to know that a slightly delayed response was common for her.

"Thanks, Vizh." Her voice was slightly muffled by the barrier of the door and the ample soundproofing which Mr Stark had furnished the rooms with. "I'm fine."

"I am glad to hear that."

Instead of departing on receiving confirmation of her wellbeing he remained planted to the spot outside of her room, studying first the blank walls in close proximity and then the floor.

"I…would you like something to eat? Or a glass of water? I was planning on going to the kitchen myself, so…"

"You can come through." He detected that her voice sounded more upbeat when she spoke again. "I prefer talking to you face to face."

"Oh, thank you," he responded, sensing another shift in his core temperature. "The same applies to you."

He used the door instead of phasing, believing that it was advisable to become accustomed to the habit. Wanda was sitting on the edge of her bed, a red cloth-covered book which he recognised as her journal to the right side of her. The television was on, but the volume was muted.

"May I…?" He gestured to her left side, which was free of any of her other possessions.

She smiled with closed lips, extending her arm to smooth the comforter that she sat upon. "Of course."

He smiled too as he sat down beside her. They did not need to converse to be comfortable in each other's company, which Vision enjoyed. What humans referred to as 'small talk' he often found to be quite wearying.

"What have you been up to?" Wanda said after a few minutes had passed, curling her legs up on the bed.

"I played a game of chess with Colonel Rhodes. I'm afraid it was over rather quickly, as he does not have a full grasp on the rules. I have said that I will teach him, and in turn he has promised to show me some card games."

She let out a soft, short laugh – an act which did not fail to destabilise him for a second or two each time it happened. "That sounds like fun."

"I then read for a while, until assisting the others, minus Mr Stark, in decorating the tree that Captain Rogers procured yesterday."

Her expression shifted subtly, most likely without her being aware. It was her eyes which were most noticeably altered, even as she glanced away from him momentarily.

"I'm sure you made it look really pretty."

He was aware that her 'you' referred to them as a collective, and yet he still took pride in the comment.

"Sergeant Wilson appears to think so. The biggest judgment is reserved for Mr Stark."

He was at a loss for what to say next, not wishing to linger on the topic and certainly not meaning to make her feel any negative emotion for not contributing, though it would have improved his own enjoyment if she had.

He thought carefully before settling on what he deemed appropriate, taking all factors into consideration.

"We would have welcomed your involvement greatly. Though you do not celebrate Christmas, so I understand entirely if it would have made you feel uncomfortable. I would certainly not wish for that."

He was thrown off course for more than a second as her eyes searched his, the green of her irises appearing to have intensified in their hue.

"None of us would."

He felt a wave of relief at having corrected himself. Though he had not consulted them specifically, he was in little doubt that all of the others would have expressed the same opinion. Particularly Captain Rogers, who frequently demonstrated his concern for Wanda.

"Being around Christmas stuff is okay. There were public trees in Novi Grad every year, even when terrible things were happening." She paused for a moment and he remained silent, allowing her to live within her memories. "I guess it's a comfort, in a weird way. But taking part in it…it would feel different. I'm not sure in a good way."

Vision nodded his head, a gesture of understanding despite their differing experiences.

Wanda shifted slightly, looking down towards the window and frowning. "I suppose I ought to try, though. Otherwise it's just another case of me not fitting in."

"Please don't think that way, Wanda."

The words were out before he could properly evaluate them, the surge of emotion winning over any logical and measured response.

Her eyes seemed to be bigger as she looked at him.

"You need not change anything about yourself to 'fit in', certainly not under this roof, but anywhere. The world would be a poorer place if every person within it was exactly the same." He stopped, a hint of a smile shaping his lips. "Though I admit, it would make matters much easier for me."

She grinned widely at the remark, which he had intended to be humorous, and he felt delighted.

"I want you to know that you are not under any pressure." He kept his gaze set upon her, to accurately relay the depth of the sentiment. "I have no religious affiliation."

"Okay," she replied, a slight rising inflection in her tone.

"I'm sorry, I should have clarified my meaning," he was quick to expand upon seeing the confusion shadow her features, "I would like to celebrate Hanukkah."

" _Oh_."

In this instance her prolonged silence left him rather unsettled.

"Vizh," she uttered her preferred name for him softly, "you don't need to do that. Not for me, anyway."

"I am aware that I have easy access to knowledge in order to learn about the holiday. But, if past occasions are to go by, I find there is little substitution for lived experience."

She smiled, her face brighter once more, and nodded her head. "Okay. Well, as long as you _want_ to, then I can certainly show you some stuff."

"Thank you. That would mean a great deal to me."

He was coming to realise that what mattered most to him was not the event itself, but spending time with Wanda. It made the idea of immersing himself in the celebrations that led up to Christmas – which it seemed to him would go on for a very long time – far less appealing, knowing that she may well feel uneasy in doing the same.

Before he could revel in too much excited anticipation a related thought occurred to him, which threatened to sour the mood entirely.

"That is, if _you_ would like to. I do not wish to cause you any pain or upset. Captain Rogers informed me that the holidays can be extremely difficult for many people, due to strong reminders of the past which cannot be relived."

"You're sweet, Vizh."

It was shortly after her unprompted compliment that he became aware that she had shortened the space between them, and that her knees were now brushing his trouser leg at the thigh area.

He decided that it would be best to focus entirely upon her face.

"I haven't celebrated Hanukkah in a long time, not like we used to when our parents were alive. Pietro –" her voice caught when she mentioned the name of her twin, grief still fresh in her soul, "Pietro and I had our own little customs, things we could do even when we were kept captive."

He was heavy with sorrow when he considered all that she had endured at the hands of others. A sharper emotion encroached, too.

Her lips curved and her cheeks rounded as her eyes focused upon his once more.

"I'd like to do it properly again. If I can remember how to, that is." She let out another melodic laugh.

"I could try my best to assist," he offered.

"Thanks, Vizh. I appreciate that." She touched a hand to his forearm, which came as a surprise to him – a most pleasant one. "I think I owe it to Pietro to do what we used to, to let him know that not everything has gone."

"I'm sure that he would be happy about that."

Her smile grew brighter, a wonderful light filling her whole face.

"And I owe it to you too, Vizh," she continued, her fingers squeezing lightly against the fabric of his sweater, "to show you what Hanukkah is all about."

They made a few preparations beforehand, though Wanda was keen to save most traditions until the holiday proper arrived. She related the story learnt from her parents about the miracle of the oil as Vision listened intently. They fashioned dreidels, and commanded the kitchen to make latkes and sufganiyot, both of which smelt delicious.

While they – or more accurately, Wanda made the food, Sergeant Wilson and Colonel Rhodes entered, no doubt lured by the aroma. Vision instinctively felt protective towards Wanda and her traditions, which she had so far not been especially vocal about. Wanda reassured him that it was okay and continued to cook enthusiastically while she gained a wider audience. The delicacies were served alongside that evening's dinner to the whole house, accompanied by explanation from a smiling Wanda, and Vision was very pleased that they were so well received, with Sergeant Wilson in particular calling for more of both.

Though she was happy to share food and games with the household, Wanda preferred to keep the nightly lighting of the menorah a private ritual in her room, shared only with Vision. He felt greatly privileged to bear witness to the tradition that was the centerpiece of the holiday. After she lit the candles she would utter a blessing in Sokovian, her native language holding a remarkable amount of beauty.

The lights burned long into the night, Vision watching their amber glow with fascination as Wanda reclined upon her bed and eventually went to sleep. Every night of the eight which comprised the holiday he offered to leave her room after the standard half-hour for the burning passed, and every night she told him that she wanted him to stay. He was unsure of whether it was the presence of the candles or himself, or perhaps both in combination, which contributed to the peaceful slumbers that she experienced.

As Christmas approached all of the Avengers took the opportunity to relax as much as they could. Captain Rogers warned that just because it was the holiday season there was no guarantee that they would not be called upon to carry out missions. So far, with five days to go until the day itself, there had been no alerts.

Vision and Wanda sat alone in the lounge area, Vision reading a book while Wanda worked with a pair of needles, knitting a hobby that she had picked up over the last couple of months. Every now and then, he liked to pause for a few minutes in his reading and watch her as she worked, fingers moving fluidly. She was absorbed in the task but on some occasions she would notice his gaze upon her, lifting her head and smiling.

"It is very pryyemnyy," she uttered, looking towards the shining tree that towered in front of the sofa. "The lights seem to jump."

"They are charming," he agreed, "but I prefer the lights of the menorah."

Wanda's cheeks appeared to flush, even in the reflection of the tree.

"It is special. I think I forgot how much. Thank you for reminding me."

"You are welcome. Thank you for sharing it all with me." He gazed down at her, considering that nothing shone quite as bright as her smile. "Can we always celebrate that way?"

She broke her smile to chew upon her bottom lip.

"I guess so," she responded quietly, but with her eyes sparkling. "I'd like that."

"I would too."

He sensed that she was feeling embarrassment, or something akin to it, so he took the opportunity to move from the sofa, remembering that there was something that he had to show her.

"Vizh?" she questioned as he returned with the box in his hand.

"Mr Stark had some ornaments commissioned. The six original Avengers each have their own which are already hanging upon the tree. Miss Romanoff thought that it would be best if we see them for ourselves, and then decide where we would like to place them."

He held the box closer to her, allowing her to pluck out the bauble that was marked with her name, the Avengers crest and an arched emblem belonging to her.

"If you feel uncomfortable in hanging it up, then I would be pleased to do it for you."

"Thanks, Vizh. Let me see yours."

She gestured to him to pick out his own, which was embellished with a small yellow crystal, standing as a replica of the Mind Stone.

"They're so cool," Wanda exclaimed, her eyes alight. "But wait, there's another one here. Has Sam or Rhodey not seen theirs yet?"

"Oh, well…" He began to stumble over words that were really quite simple. "I requested that another be made. It was rather lucky that I was not too late before Mr Stark submitted the designs."

He watched her face as she took out the remaining bauble, which was made of a lighter silver than the others. Her eyes raised to his, asking for confirmation, but he remained silent and unmoving, knowing that it was important for her to discover for herself.

One of her hands sprang to cover her mouth as she dangled the bauble upon her finger, the name of her brother visible and gleaming in the light.

"Pietro was an Avenger. Perhaps he had not been officially sworn in by Captain Rogers, but if he had - ."

As the lights upon the tree flickered, he saw the stream of a tear running down over her cheek.

"Wanda," he uttered, full of remorse for his actions, "I am deeply sorry if I have upset you. It was not my intention."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, Vision. You haven't…this is…"

Despite her assurance he felt somewhat uncertain. At least until she stood in front of him, placing her hands lightly against his torso for purchase.

"Oh," he exhaled, as she pressed a kiss against his cheek. It lasted both for an eternity and for hardly any time at all.

"I love it," she said, lowering her feet back onto the floor. "Thank you so much."

"You are very welcome, Wanda. I am glad."

She wore a smile that was simply dazzling, giggling as she reached a hand up to cup the same cheek she had kissed but a minute previously.

"I think you might be blushing, Vizh."

"Oh," he responded, feeling rather self-conscious. He had noticed feeling warm again, specifically at the millisecond that Wanda's lips met his skin. "I didn't think that was possible."

"Me neither," she replied airily, "I think it's very cute, though."

"Th-thank you."

Everything else seemed rather insignificant when he was faced with Wanda's beaming smile.

"Better be careful, though," she said, smiling, "you might start to glow brighter than the tree."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ukrainian/Sokovian translation:
> 
> pryyemnyy = pleasant
> 
> There was a post on Tumblr with headcanon about Vision blushing, and turning yellow when he does so (the same kind of way that he 'flickers' yellow beneath his skin when he is injured in Infinity War), and I completely accept that.
> 
> Though we don't officially know Sam's rank the consensus from some Googling seems to be that he would likely be a Sergeant (although Air Force pararescues have various levels of Sergeant, and Sam would be fairly senior), so I went with that. Vision would certainly give him the honour that he warrants.


	2. Chapter 2

Lights illuminated the entirety of the city. At every turning each glimmer and glow became brighter, as if it were some kind of competition. Every step traversed was left in full glare, no chance of footprints being washed away in shadow.

That alone should have made her fearful. While she did not allow her alertness to drop she found herself not entirely caring if she became aware of a presence trailing her or a hand falling upon her shoulder.

She pulled the beanie hat a little lower over her head, raised her shoulders within her coat which did not keep out the cold as much as it should have done. It was a conscious choice; a reminder of the far harsher winters that she had endured.

For those who wished for darkness, there was little solace to be found.

Her steps hurried along the square, unconcerned about drawing attention to herself though she heard Steve's voice in her head, repeating the rules that she was bound to live by. It was an exceptionally cold evening. It didn't make sense for her to be dawdling.

Even with her focus to reach her destination as quickly as possible she could not stop herself from glancing upwards at the sound of the children's laughter. There were scores of them, accompanied by parents and grandparents. The picture was the same every evening, only with different faces, though the lights had been up for weeks. There was no end to their capacity for fascination, and most people loved them, delighting in the myriad of colours they threw down upon the pavements.

Most people were happy.

A little girl with fair hair in pigtail plaits, dressed in a red coat with green gloves and a green and yellow knitted beret, paused in her skipping to simply stand underneath an arch of lights that twinkled to-and-fro. She smiled at Wanda, a broad smile which revealed that she was missing one of her front teeth. A smile that ought not to have been given to a stranger. Wanda paused in her walking to smile back, for the briefest moment feeling something of the joy that had descended upon the square, hearing for the first time the accordion music that played.

A minute later the girl's father took her gloved hand in his and moved her along to gaze at the giant illuminated polar bear which stood metres away. Wanda dipped her head and continued on, digging her hands into the depths of her pockets.

She took the stairs two at a time at the hostel, keen to get to her room and away from the harsh, fluorescent light that was a permanent feature of the hallways no matter the time of day. She shut the door behind her, shrugging off her coat and letting it fall upon the floor to blot out the light. She removed her boots, deciding to ignore the protests of her stomach and instead climb into bed, still wearing her sweater and jeans, even keeping hat in place.

Finally, she could breathe.

The music in the square played on, faintly but with an audible melody. She did not try to block it out, for a reason she wasn't quite sure of. She did want to be reminded of happier times. It was hard to think that twelve months ago everything had been so different. Time had long been a strange, broken concept to her, but she had allowed herself to believe it was beginning to shift, like the earth beneath her feet. Both things became more solid when she became an Avenger. Somewhere to belong, after so much drifting.

Things didn't have a habit of lasting. History found its preferred pattern and reverted to it, almost completely erasing the warmth and happiness that had been felt, briefly but beautifully. The memories were ones she clung onto, bright spots amongst such engulfing shadow.

Her concept had become hazy once more, but she thought it had been two months since she had last seen them. Steve and Sam and Nat. She hadn't lost _everything_ , and that was some comfort. They'd talked about checking in over the holidays – at least, both her and Sam had raised the idea, thinking that strength in numbers might just win out. Steve held firm however, and had Nat's experience to back up his reasoning. It was far less of a risk to stay separate and at some distance from one another. They could always have a belated gathering in a couple of months' time.

_What could they celebrate? Sam said. She kept quiet, but considered that evading capture and staying alive was a considerable feat in itself._

A tear rolled down her cheek as her mind enlivened, the music and the darkness of the room seeming to kindle it in combination. She supposed that she was grateful for the capability, that The Raft and then the running hadn't numbed her senses completely.

No Pietro. The second year without him. Those seconds and minutes she did keep count of, whilst others flew away unseen.

The pain in her chest and sunk within her bones was constant but it overtook her then, leaving her paralysed. Her throat burned and her stomach twisted, knowing that the loss would never end.

Closing her eyes against the tears that stung them she saw a light in the distance. It pulsed softly as she floated towards it – _pulled down fast by a dream, clearly_ – spreading out around her.

Subconsciously she smiled, even as sorrow and despair kept tight grasps upon her.

Vision.

The light of the Mind Stone – _his_ light, his very soul – radiated, lifting her upwards. She laughed as she saw him, felt his hand against hers. Feeling safe, she held onto him as he flew them higher, towards the stars and then beyond them. His gaze upon her made her feel warm and protected and she began to feel invincible as they sped, clouds evaporating in their wake.

_Where are we going, Vizh? she asked him, though she knew that wherever he took her would only be for her benefit._

He smiled at her, one of his rare smiles that she liked to imagine she was the sole witness to.

_Somewhere I don't know, he replied, but where I would be glad to follow you to. Or go before you, if that is how it should be._

She woke gasping for breath, both incredibly happy to be visited by Vision in her dreams but troubled by what they were turning into. A product of her low state of her mind, no doubt.

Her attempts to go back to sleep were futile, and after a while her mind filled with vibrations and humming sensations that were only vaguely distracting.

_I hope I have not woken you._

She sat up sharply at the sound of his voice, clear in her head.

 _Vizh?_ She felt stupid asking, as it was obviously him. _No, you didn't. I haven't been sleeping all that well, honestly._

To hear him so vividly, when she felt as if her powers were weakened, must have meant that he was fairly nearby.

_I would suggest drinking some warm milk, although I cannot personally attest to the validity of that solution._

She smiled in the receding dark, shaking her head.

_I am on board the sleeper train. I debated whether or not I should keep my visit a surprise, until it occurred to me that you would not favour that at present. If there are no delays I will arrive in two and a half hours time. Meet me at the station._

It had been enough to hear his voice, after seeing him in her dream, but now her heart leapt at the thought of seeing him in reality and only in a matter of hours.

_I'll be there. You didn't have to…_

She stopped herself, curbing her own feelings and thinking instead of him.

_Thank you. I really hope there aren't any delays._

She could _feel_ him, the way his head leant back against the head-rest of his seat and how his lips curved gently upwards.

_Me neither._

She regretted going to bed in her clothes, taking a shower in the water that was near to ice-cold to wash off the previous days of dirt. Pulling on a sweater that was clean and brushing her hair, she bundled in a scarf along with her coat, knowing that Vision would be concerned about her being cold.

At the station it didn't take her long to spot him; it wasn't all that crowded, most people already where they wanted to be and making the most of the season with their families and loved ones. He did stand out anyway given his height, but not as much as he would have done if he had arrived in his true form.

Wanda increased her pace to reach him, and he began to walk towards her too. She could feel herself smiling; it was the first time she had felt genuinely happy since…well, the last time he had visited.

He greeted her with a polite "hello, Wanda", to which she responded with a "hey", and after a few seconds had passed they hugged, Wanda taking the lead. She exhaled a gentle, contented sigh on feeling him so close, enjoying the brush of the wool of his coat against her cheek.

Not for the first time she felt herself wishing that he would turn his head at a certain angle as she did so too, first bumping her nose with his. She would laugh, and then hold her breath as she closed her eyes and felt his lips pressing gently against hers.

It was something that would have to wait for another time – at least, she fervently hoped – as he pulled away from her, though his gaze remained fixed.

"I like your hat," he said, his tone warm and genuine, "it suits you."

"Thanks," she replied, with a touch of shyness. There was so much she wanted to say to him but she felt at a loss.

Instead she stepped to his side and, without thinking particularly, extended her arm. She didn't know exactly why, but she felt relieved when he took her hand, closing his fingers around hers. His hand was warm, though he wasn't wearing gloves, and Wanda smiled up at him, knowing that he had adjusted his temperature on purpose.

They strolled around for a while, Wanda pointing out some of the sights of the city. It was quiet, but that wasn't unusual for the daytime at the moment. They went into a gallery, and he told her that he could be there for three days. She felt bad for being disappointed that he wouldn't be there for the last day of the holiday but quickly rebuked herself, having not expected him to come at all.

They stopped at a small café, ordering a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, a latte and a glass of water, the latter for appearances but which she would ensure would not go untouched. She asked him how his Christmas was, and the look on his face spoke louder than his words, making her heart sink. It had been quite different from last year, he told her. Colonel Rhodes had been unable to travel home, due to his ongoing recovery, and so Mr Stark had invited his family to spend Christmas Day at the compound. They had been affable, Vision said, but he conceded that _"they probably did not know quite what to make of something like myself."_

Though she only had the vaguest notion of them, Wanda found herself angered by Rhodey's relatives. Anyone who saw Vision as anything less than the kind, selfless and wonderful person that he was deserved nothing of his time, in her opinion.

She had Steve and Sam and Nat, that was true. But Vision was the only one keeping her sane. The most important person in her world.

He would be back for New Year. Stark would be throwing a party, which was obvious but something Wanda found distasteful in the circumstances. Miss Potts had been invited, Vision confided, but had not RSVP-d at the time of his departure. It seemed that Stark held high hopes of a reunion with his former flame, and both Colonel Rhodes and he were concerned what might happen if events should not go as planned.

"I doubt that my presence will be noted," he said as they stood from the table, Wanda attempting to prevent him from taking out money of his wallet to pay. "Especially if Miss Potts does attend."

Inside she was hopeful, but something else made her frown, reaching her hand out to touch his arm softly.

"He wants you there," she said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible, "You're…well, I don't know what to call it. But you mean a lot to him. Even if he doesn't always show it."

Vision was wistful as he looked down at her. He almost seemed like he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

"Yes," he replied after his lengthy pause, holding his hand out towards her. She took it, rubbing the pad of her thumb over the arch of his.

She didn't think of them as being on opposing sides, not when it was just the two of them. Yet at that moment she felt like he was clearly pinning his loyalties to Stark, and as childish as it sounded, she felt hurt that he hadn't rejected him to choose her.

Then again, she had decided to stick with Steve. She didn't have a great deal of options, especially not as a foreign citizen.

She didn't want to take him back to the hostel just yet, feeling rather embarrassed at how run-down it was, so they continued to walk around. The sky was turning a shade of purple. Wanda noticed Vision glancing at the as-yet unlit array of lights that decorated the centre of the city, and smiled as she squeezed his fingers slightly.

"Just wait until it gets dark," she said.

If she didn't feel particularly excited about the display herself, she was sure that she would be on behalf of Vision.

He asked her about Hanukkah and how she had been observing it. She lowered her head on instinct, remembering how enthusiastic he had been about learning everything he could the previous year. She went on to explain that she hadn't really done much at all, feeling a little guilty about it. With everything that had happened, it seemed easiest to try and forget. That's what she spent her time doing now, after all; forgetting herself.

There was something that she had been keeping up, however, and once the sun had been set for long enough she led him in the direction she travelled each evening since the holiday had begun.

The synagogue was a peaceful place; she felt it as soon as she walked in, the same every evening. There wasn't a particularly large Jewish community here and so it was fairly empty. Some of the evenings she had been the only other person there, the rabbi who lit each of the candles on the menorah and kept a faithful watch while they burned nodding to her as she passed, finding a spot in which to kneel.

She was glad to have Vision with her, not just watching her as she went about her rituals but kneeling beside her too. She uttered the same prayer in Sokovian, her head bowed and hands clasped. When she finished she looked to her side and smiled softly at Vision, who was waiting patiently beside her. She covered one of her hands over his where they were braced in front of him.

He followed her to the back of the synagogue, where there were row upon row of candles, some of which had been lit – presumably by the rabbi. Wanda gravitated towards those which were not burning, taking a portion of flame from the other section with a taper. She lit three candles, one after the other, and stood watching them for a while as they gleamed in their own little row, standing alone and together.

"Dobre pikluvatysya odyn pro odnoho," she said to the three burning candles before she left, hand in hand with Vision. "Ya v poryadku. Ya sumuyu za toboyu vsikh."

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Wanda," he said when they were back in the frosty air, "I know how much it means to you, and I do not take it lightly. I feel the utmost privilege."

She felt her cheeks grow a little hot as he stared at her, and could not blame it upon the weather.

"I'm glad you're here, Vizh. Really glad."

They headed back into the square, the lights now at their full capacity. While Vision looked round at them he was not as entranced as she thought he would be, instead paying more attention to the clusters of children who jumped and whirled about, shrieking at the display.

Yet more excitement came as wet white flakes began to fall from the sky, small at first but getting larger as the minutes passed. Wanda found herself smiling at the sight, thinking how it had been creeping closer to being cold enough for snow.

Vision was similarly enamoured, holding his hands out to catch the snowflakes in his palm. There had been snow in New York at the beginning of the year, but this was the first time he had seen it fall elsewhere, and indeed been outside while it happened. Flakes fell on the tips of his hair, as well as on the shoulders of his coat, and his cheeks glowed pink with the cold. He laughed at the occurrence, which made her do the same, feeling joy well within her at his innocence.

Everything about him made her happy, when nobody would expect that she had anything on earth to be happy about.

A little further along and there was another spectacle altogether. Wanda didn't know why she hadn't seen it before, until she realised she had been, up until Vision's arrival, looking with different eyes. The skating rink stretched out several feet, the ice glistening under the glow of yet more light. Several people were on it, family members and friends – and couples, too – some displaying more skill than others, but all of them having a wonderful time.

"That looks…"

"Dangerous?" she anticipated the end of Vision's sentence, her gaze falling upon him.

"I was going to say _fun_ ," he replied with a hint of a smile, taking her by surprise.

The snow continued to fall, dropping like diamonds upon the ice. A teenage boy performed a daring spin, extending his arms while his legs crossed and twisted almost beyond comprehension. He moved like a blur.

Wanda could sense Vision's intrigue, though he did not move from where they stood.

"It's okay for you," she said, gently teasing, "you're indestructible. I'll watch you from here."

His expression shadowed a little. "If you are afraid of falling then I will stay by your side. I can hold your hand all of the way around."

She was blushing again, she knew it. The thought of clinging tightly to him, of potentially having such close bodily contact…it wasn't as though it hadn't happened before, but that was entirely different.

"You were afraid of falling while flying," he reminded her, "and though I knew you would be fine I was ready to catch you every time we practiced. I would never leave you in danger." He faltered for a moment, his gaze lowering to the ground. "At least, not again."

Tears pricked at her eyes unbidden; she knew that he was thinking prior to her escape, perceiving himself to have failed her. Even now he blamed himself, despite her insisting several times that it was not his fault.

She pulled his hand closer to her chest, feeling a fluttering within her stomach as his cheeks flushed a deeper shade.

"Okay, let's do this."

"Only if – that is, I hope you do not feel obligated – "

She was entirely captivated by the light in his eyes, unable to resist. Besides, she felt safe with him, and it was a fact that was true for any circumstance.

"I trust you, Vizh. One hundred per cent." Her smile grew bigger as she looked into his eyes, everything else falling away for a few moments. "I just have to apologise now for clutching onto you, because I'm absolutely going to."

"Oh," he said with an exhalation that formed in to a light mist upon the chilled air, "I don't foresee that being a problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ukrainian/Sokovian translations:
> 
> Dobre pikluvatysya odyn pro odnoho = Take good care of each other  
> Ya v poryadku = I'm okay  
> Ya sumuyu za toboyu vsikh = I miss you all


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm so sorry, Vizh._

Those words in his mind, sent by her, caused alarm to rise within him. Alongside the words he could sense that Wanda was distressed, through strong vibrations and bursts of dark scarlet that he felt and saw clouding her mind and colliding into his, though she was attempting to quieten them, exerting herself in the process.

This made him all the more afraid of what he long feared would become an inevitability.

He must put his own feelings to one side; remember that his reason for existence was to protect and comfort others. He wanted to show this to Wanda most of all, though she was one of the strongest beings in the universe.

If anything, he was the one who was at greater risk.

_You do not have to apologise, Wanda. You can tell me anything. I will be here for you._

He was bound to her, through bonds that had gone far beyond the Stone whose power was responsible for his sentient existence.

He would always care for her and dedicate his life to her, even if she had stopped reciprocating his feelings.

_You're so sweet, Vizh. But I've spoiled everything._

_That could not possibly be the case._

He paced the floor of his room restlessly, experiencing a tightening of the neurons that lay beneath his skin and which were shielded by vibranium. It was just as well that breathing was not a necessity and merely a performance, else he would have placed himself in grave danger minutes ago.

_I'm sick. It's a cold, nothing serious. But I haven't left the apartment in three days and it's not getting any better._

Seconds later he felt a tremor and saw a violent, if relatively small, explosion of scarlet within the centre of his mind.

_Sorry, I sneezed._

While one great burden fell away from him he had not relinquished his elevated level of concern, knowing that Wanda was suffering. Being at an almost constant distance from her was always frustrating and painful to him, but none more so than now.

_I will extend my visit, and come to you as soon as I can. I could leave in the morning, and formulate a reason to provide to Mr Stark in the hours between now and my departure._

_Vizh…_

_Yes, Wanda?_

_This isn't fair on you. You're going here, there and everywhere for me, all the time._

_But that is how it must be. I do not mind. I am glad to travel to see you._

Doubt began to creep into his consciousness; he suspected it had never left from his previous crisis. Perhaps it was too much, his visits too often. Though Wanda told him that she would miss him and was reluctant to let him go physically each time that he was ready to catch another train, he was aware that she was entitled to change her mind about their arrangement at any moment. Given the situation she was in, he could not blame her for doing so. He often worried that he was leading those who she was running from straight towards her, especially as he was lengthening his trips at a greater rate.

Yet it hurt too much to stay away. He had heard Colonel Rhodes utter the phrase 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', in reference to Mr Stark and Miss Potts and the relationship they had rekindled. He found himself thinking about this particular phrase frequently, as it was of such pertinence to his own situation, but he was unable to vouch for its truth. The only thing that absence did to his heart, as synthetic as it was, was make it feel perilously close to breaking.

He could feel Wanda's tumult of emotions, that her silence was not simply a signal of disagreement or uncertainty. It would be so much easier to reassure her that he wanted nothing else if he was in the same room, where he could cup his hand upon her face, take her into his arms.

Kiss the troubles she had about herself away.

_So long as you're sure. I guess that it's a good thing that Hanukkah is so early this year._

_Even if it wasn't, I would still come to you._

The scarlet haze that was still floating shifted to a lighter hue, and he could sense her smiling.

_I know. I'll see you very soon, then._

_Yes._

He smiled too, excitement building like an ignited fire within him.

_Oh, and if you could bring a couple of boxes of tissues, that would be so good._

He arrived at the door of her apartment on schedule late the following evening, having been let inside the block by an elderly woman. She smiled a wide smile at him and enquired as to whether he was Leigh (Wanda's latest alias)'s 'young man'. When he confirmed that he was the woman cooed happily. She went on to tell how Leigh/Wanda helped her with her grocery shopping, regularly bought her flowers alongside said groceries, and looked after her cat when she was away visiting her son, who lived in the next town along. He had a feeling that she would have been content to talk for some time, and had to be more polite than was customary in order to make it up the staircase.

 _"Of course,"_ she had said, _"you go and see that lovely girl. Tell her that I shall make her some more chicken soup if she's not feeling better by the time you leave."_

He smiled and said that he would certainly pass the message along.

He only had to knock on the door once before Wanda opened it, smiling widely when she saw him. Her hair was piled on top of her head and both her nose and eyes were tinged red, the latter appearing as though she had been crying.

"I'm so happy you're here."

She bundled herself against him once she had closed the door behind them both, only pulling back to sneeze several times in quick succession. He felt himself frown as she did so.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm surviving," she replied, wiping the sleeves of the oversized hooded sweatshirt she was wearing to relieve her streaming eyes. "But I'm all the better for seeing you, Vizh. Wow," he saw that she had caught a glimpse of herself in the little mirror that was screwed to the wall at the side of the door, "I look like a mess."

"You look beautiful. As you always do."

She shook her head, causing some loose strands of hair to fall out of place and around her face.

"Vizh, you don't _always_ have to say what is nice for me to hear. I can take the truth."

"But I _am_ telling the truth," he replied, and was rewarded with a beaming smile.

Wanda came closer to him, her feet muffled by a pair of large woollen socks. Her hands were a little cold as she placed them either side of his face, but it did not bother him. He heard himself audibly sigh at her touch and saw her green irises shimmer as they stared into his eyes.

She no longer had to speak her desire aloud, the sense of longing that came from her enough.

"Are you sure that it's safe?" he asked her, always feeling hesitant to change his form so soon after entering. "Your neighbour, Mrs Pearson, is downstairs, and though she did not indicate that she would be visiting, if something happens…"

"I don't care," she said, and then smiled to soften her emphatic statement, "I mean, I do care about you, but it's okay. She won't come up. And if something unexpected does happen, well, other people can deal with it. And you can go and hide in the bathroom."

They both laughed at the absurd thought of him standing there, concealing himself behind the shower curtain.

One of her hands tenderly stroked the curve of his jaw and he shivered. The substitute for human skin that he had fashioned was more prone to sensitivity than his own.

"I want to see you, Vizh."

He gently placed his hands around her wrists, and concentrated hard, pouring his focus into the task of transformation. It must have appeared rather seamless to Wanda, who was of course the only person who had seen him undergo such a change.

She beamed up at him, putting her hands back in place against his smooth crimson skin once the task was complete.

"Hey, gorgeous."

He knew that his yellow blush was burnishing beneath her fingertips. She always made him feel much better about his natural appearance, which he had been indifferent to in the earliest days of existence. In the face of the other male Avengers however, and knowing how revered their attractiveness was – specifically that of Captain Rogers and Thor – amongst the public, he had started to harbor feelings of self-consciousness towards his 'otherness'. He hadn't really considered it until recently, but he supposed he was in part modelling himself on the two aforementioned Avengers when he decided that a fairer hair colour and complexion suited him best.

He wasn't sure what Wanda would make of the revelation if he was to confide it to her. She would be accepting, of course, but he suspected that she would be rather amused, too. She had been well aware of his insecurities, particularly as their relationship had deepened over the months. When he had expressed concerns – for her sake, rather than his own – about the wider public's perception of him if their relationship was ever discovered, she had been angry and then upset. Not towards him, he knew, but the troubling thoughts that he kept in his far-from-flawless mind.

She had put her hands to his face in much the same way as she was doing now, and said, with great conviction in her voice, that _"love is for souls, not bodies_."

He was so comforted by her reassurance that he did not register the full extent of her words until some further seconds had passed.

_"Does that mean…that you love me?"_

_She smiled even more, the beauty brightening her face and showing the pure light that was in her soul. He watched her intently as she nodded her head first, then parted her lips to speak._

_"Yes. I love you. I love you, Vizh. So much."_

_He felt like he was going to both burst into flight and phase down into the floor, so overwhelmed was he._

_Love. The most human emotion that existed. At the beginning of his existence he never would have imagined it was possible, but he felt it so strongly, like flowers blooming within him, whenever he thought of Wanda. He felt that he had always loved her, before he had been fully aware of the complexities of the emotion and the depth of his connection to her._

_Before he had even awoken._

_If that had seemed a dream, then he could not classify what Wanda returning the love he felt for her could possibly be._

_A miracle, perhaps._

_He brought one palm, and then the other, of hers to his mouth, kissing the centre while his eyes fixed upon her._

_"I love you too, Wanda."_

She had stretched up towards his height on her tiptoes, so he placed his hands against her waist, lowering her and dipping down himself so that he could meet her lips with his. He had been waiting for this kiss since the moment of his last departure, feeling a phantom of the shape of her mouth in the deepest of night hours, and a yearning for her that was only now being quenched.

The kiss deepened before she broke away, her eyes remaining closed for seconds and a satisfied smile stretching the lips he had committed to memory.

"Mmmm," she hummed, her hands pressed to his chest, "I'm so glad that you can't catch this cold from me."

"I'm not sure that it would prevent me from kissing you even if I could."

She began to giggle, which transformed quickly into a short fit of coughing. He braced his arm around her on instinct, and she smiled up at him once she was over the worst.

"I feel so bad that we won't be able to do what we had planned. The light show and the lanterns sounded so nice. And there is a fair in the neighbouring town too. Mrs Pearson was telling me how she was going to take her grandchildren."

She looked so despondent at missing out that he wished he could do something on the same scale to compensate.

"There will be other times, I am sure. The priority is to ensure that you feel better."

Once she was settled comfortably on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her knees, he brought over the grocery bags that he had acquired, laden with supplies to aid her recovery, revealing one item after another as if he was performing an elaborate magic show.

As well as the tissues that she had requested, he had bought some honey and lemon mixture, two kinds of hot chocolate, mini marshmallows, and an array of vegetables and stock (before the knowledge of Mrs Pearson's cookery skills, he had his own plans to make soup). He was unable to locate a menorah but found some tea-light candles as an inferior substitute and had been able to purchase chocolate money covered in gold foil, the kind which Wanda used to play the traditional Hanukkah games with.

"And, last but not least…"

He tipped out the contents of the second bag, which contained all of the ingredients required to make latkes, Wanda's favourite seasonal delicacy.

"Oh, Vizh," she murmured, leaning forward so that she could take both of his hands with hers, "this is so much better than takeaway."

"Would you like me to make you something?"

"Not just yet. I'm more tired than anything else. My nose was all stuffy last night, so I didn't sleep for longer than a couple of hours."

He felt himself frown, though he tried to curb any negativity for her sake. "You should try sleeping now. You do not sound congested."

"I'm not, but you've only just got here. I don't want to waste any of the time I have with you."

She was like this on every trip he made to see her. Sleeping too late and waking too early. While he shared her desperate desire for time to slow down, or even halt completely for periods while they were together, he did not like to think too long about the ill-effects that a reduced amount of sleep would have upon her, especially when it was accumulated. One of them would need to make the effort to ensure that she was looking after her body and tending to her mental state.

"I will be right beside you," he said, positioning himself by her side on the sofa, "we will be together while you sleep. I would rather that you get more than adequate rest."

She smiled up at him, her eyes already drooping as she shifted so that her head was resting against his chest.

"Okay. But wake me up if I sleep too long, okay?"

He did not reply in the affirmative, but simply smiled back at her.

He stretched his legs out the length of the sofa as she did too – although his ended up dangling over the arm – and placed his arm securely around her waist as she got comfortable, curling her arms against his torso. It only took a matter of minutes before he felt her soft breaths falling upon him.

Vision could not help but admire her while she slept, she looked so peaceful and remarkably beautiful. He supposed that he found the act of sleep still rather fascinating, even as he had adopted a form of doing so for himself. It was more about lying down and clearing his mind while he could hold Wanda close. She liked to cuddle into him at night, sometimes waking in the morning to find herself twined completely around him, laughing and apologising if it had been uncomfortable for him. He always responded by saying that it was not, and that he was very pleased that she wanted to stay so close to him.

It made his heart, which was not of flesh and blood, feel larger, stronger.

He wondered whether she was dreaming, and hoped fervently that if she was, that they were pleasant dreams. She still had nightmares from time to time but they were not so near to being as frequent as in the past, in the first months of him following her from city to city and earlier than that when they had both been living at the compound. The nights when he would stay faithfully by her side, not daring to move an inch in case he should accidentally frighten her. She had told him not long ago that it had meant the world to her, that he had been so patient with her when others would have grown weary and did not judge her for something she should have been able to stop.

To him, there had been no question. She saw him for who he was – not something unexplainable or to be feared – his vulnerabilities as well as his power, and embraced his constant curiosities about humankind. Found them endearing, a quality that spoke to his innate understanding and made him better than any human, she would say. He did not know if he agreed with her.

There was nobody better than her, not on all of the planets that existed.

He wanted to stay with her forever. Go to bed with her at night and rise with her each morning, share in all of the joys of life and the sorrows, for he knew that there would be some but they would be bearable if he faced them with her. It felt like a dream that could be achieved when he held her like this, and there was nothing in the world to trouble them.

If he was being realistic he knew that what he wanted most of all – the thing he had begun to think about more and more frequently of late – was surely not possible. She was a fugitive who could not reveal her true identity for certain fear of being captured. And he…well, he was not certain whether he was recognised as an individual who could ever be afforded such rights.

It did not stop him from picturing it in his mind. He could not quite decide whether he would go down on one knee in front of her, although it seemed to be a favoured convention. But he would present her with a ring. He had found himself staring in the windows of jewellers', and admiring the ring that Mr Stark had in his possession, with the intention of proposing to Miss Potts. While it was aesthetically pleasing it was rather ostentatious, and he felt that Wanda would prefer something smaller in terms of a stone, daintier and discreet.

Then his thoughts drifted to Wanda in a flowing ivory dress, made predominantly of lace, traditional for a Sokovian bride, with a scarlet sash sitting upon her waist, carrying a bouquet of the same red and white flowers that were threaded into her hair. He would be so overcome by her beauty and so honoured that she was ready to pledge her life to him, as he was to her, that he would find it almost impossible to speak his vows.

He remained lost in his hopeless daydreams when she stirred, murmuring softly and wriggling her arms.

"Vizh."

"I'm here," he responded, looking at her with so much love.

She smiled a hazy but completely lovely smile at him. "I didn't sleep for too long, did I?"

"A little over two hours, by my reckoning."

"That's good. I can catch up on the rest later."

He elevated himself to allow her to sit up, settling back down when she was comfortable. He noticed her looking at him with a grin on her face, and he found himself intrigued.

"I had the nicest dream," she went on to explain, "and you were in it, of course."

"Is that so?" he replied, a hint of a smile curving his lips as she nodded her head. "Would you care to tell me about it as I attempt to make latkes?"

"That sounds perfect."

He had practiced his cooking skills considerably since the unfortunate paprikash incident, and in particular had made sure to test out several latke recipes before travelling. He had to judge the most favourable recipe entirely by sight, which was unfortunate, but thankfully Wanda enjoyed his efforts, convincing him that he had been correct.

They spent the rest of the evening into the nighttime snuggled on the sofa, watching the television. Vision was rather intrigued that Wanda settled on a channel which exclusively played Christmas-themed movies, with all of them appearing to follow a similar narrative and thematic pattern, with all of them involving a building romance. They were what Mr Stark might term 'corny', but he found them to be light-hearted and pleasant. The main point of interest for him was Wanda's rapture; every so often she would make soft cooing sounds as the plot unfolded, looking to him with dewy eyes and a soft, warm smile upon her face.

"Before I get carried away," she said, climbing from her spot while the advertisements played, "I got you something. Well, I made _and_ got you something."

He watched her rummage around the small apartment, wanting to help her locate the items, though he did not know where to look. She turned to him with a grin, the two packages in brightly-coloured paper held in her hands.

"Wanda, though I am very pleased and flattered, this is unnecessary." He noticed the reindeer and snowman figures printed on the foil wrapping when she passed them over to him. "Especially as you do not celebrate Christmas."

"But you do, and I want to celebrate you." The apples of her cheeks began to flush a very attractive hue. "And, you know, you do so much for me. Like coming early to see me when I feel terrible, and spoiling me with great food, on top of everything else." She twisted one of the rings that adorned her hands, shifting a little where she sat. "It's the least I can do, really."

"Thank you. Though I wish I would have had prior warning, so that I could have reciprocated."

She shook her head. "My gift is you."

The brush of her lips against his cheek were warm and comforting.

"Open the big one first."

He did as she commanded, the package soft beneath his hands. He unveiled a navy blue scarf whose wool shimmered a little when he held it to the light. He smiled, aware that Wanda had picked up her old hobby again.

"I know that you don't need a scarf, but I figured that you could add it to your disguise. Plus I'm pretty good at making them."

"It is magnificent. Thank you."

"The other one is better, I promise."

It took him a little longer to break into the smaller package, Wanda having used a lot of sticking tape. Even before it was fully unveiled he recognised the cover of the book immediately, and smiled once more.

"How did you find this?"

"I can't reveal my secrets," she teased playfully, perching next to him on the arm of the sofa. "Let's just say I visited a lot of flea markets and hidden stores. It only took eight trips, but it was worth it."

It was a volume that he had come across quite unexpectedly, on a table of a café they took shelter from the rain in on one of their first jaunts together. Though he had been taken with it as he flicked through the pages, finding the contents affecting indeed, he did not want to presume that it had been left purposely behind, handing it in over the counter before they departed.

"I hope you like it," Wanda's voice was quiet beside him.

"More than that," he assured her, taking more effort than usual to convey his sincerity, "I love it." He paused for the briefest of moments, and then added "I love you."

Her eyes were like emeralds, sparkling as they looked into his.

"I love you too."

He placed a hand upon her cheek, drawing her closer to him to kiss her softly. She leaned forward, bracing her hands upon his shoulders, and they both laughed as she tumbled into his lap, her laugh full and beautiful as she gazed up at him.

Oh, how he would stay like this, forever. It was his heart's deepest wish and his mind's only thought.

"Next year, I promise that I'm not going to have a stupid cold."

He smiled at her, feeling like he could burst with love and affection.

"This year is wonderful exactly the way it is."

 _You are wonderful_ , he thought.

"Next year will be better still," he closed his hand around her elegant fingers, capable of astounding things, "as long as I am with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor sweet babies *heart clenches*
> 
> I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, and now I'm in a very similar position to Wanda - although I have no Vision to look after me, alas.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set in the same timeline as my post-Endgame WIP fic, All The Stars Are Out. As such, both Tony and Natasha survived, and of course, Vision was revived. Steve has given up the mantle of Captain America but is still young and living in the current timeline (a minor detail, as he doesn't feature in this chapter).

Thanksgiving at the Starks was a true celebration, even if it was not as extravagant as it might have been in different circumstances. Tony and Pepper were the perfect hosts, Rhodey dropped by for a flying visit and Peter called in on the day itself – using the most up-to-date Stark Industries technology – saying hello from his Aunt May's house, which was where Happy was spending the holiday.

Morgan was the star of the show, however. She had inherited her father's enthusiasm for any kind of holiday and spent any time when she wasn't asleep or eating happily talking away, taking Wanda and Vision on a tour of the house – although not much had really changed since the last time they had visited, except that Edwin, her pet rabbit, had gotten bigger.

She insisted on sitting between them both at dinner, unfazed by the fact that Vision sat at the table without taking part in the meal. It was another opportunity to ask him a lot of questions, which being the only one who was not preoccupied by eating, he was content to answer.

Despite this holiday not yet being over, Morgan was already very excited about the prospect of the one that would follow. There were already some lights up around the house and Morgan informed Wanda and Vision that the very next day they would be going to pick out a tree, and it was going to be the _best one ever, ever._ Wanda had to smile at the little girl's glee, sharing in the magic through the way her eyes lit up and she spoke so animatedly.

It almost made her want to pretend when Morgan started asking her about Christmas, but when she looked towards Vision and found love and comfort in his adoring gaze, she decided that the truth would be best. Morgan was a little confused at first, but she was incredibly clever, so it didn't take long for her to start quizzing Wanda on Hanukkah.

And, as was always the case with Miss Morgan H. Stark, she wanted to know everything.

_"Are there Hanukkah elves?"_

_"Morgan," Pepper intoned from the opposite side of the table, "dessert first, questions later."_

_Wanda smiled over to reassure Pepper that it was okay, before turning back to Morgan's inquisitive stare. "Not that I know of. But there might be."_

_Morgan pondered this possibility while she chewed upon a spoonful of pie. Before she finished it completely another puzzlement flashed upon her features._

_"Does it snow at Hanukkah?"_

_Wanda tried not to laugh at the spray of crumbs that came from Morgan's mouth._

_"Sometimes. Not that much, really. But it can happen."_

_"And is – "_

_"Morguna," Tony boomed in a deep voice, half-teasing until his expression turned straight and serious, "you gotta zip it now, kiddo. Give Wanda the chance to eat her pie before next Thanksgiving comes around."_

_Morgan looked to her dad with a frown, smiling when he made a silly face back at her. Sitting up straight in her chair she then looked to her right and smiled at Wanda._

_"Can I ask one more thing?"_

_"Sure," Wanda replied, while Tony covered his face with his hands and Pepper did a poor job of masking an amused grin._

_"Santa still brings you presents, right?"_

_"Of course," Vision responded to Morgan's question with a smile before Wanda could be left to flounder, not quite sure of what she was going to say. "I think that Santa would be very pleased that you are so keen to know about Wanda's heritage and culture, Morgan. He would also be pleased if you saved your further questions until dinner has been completed."_

_With a smile, Morgan returned to her bowl, remaining as quiet as a mouse until a little while after they departed from the table._

It had been so nice to spend the time with the family, but Wanda was equally happy to return to the compound the evening afterwards, always feeling slightly exhausted from social gatherings, even when they were on the small side. The traffic had been busy with shoppers when they arrived back in New York so they decided to fly their way from the airport back to the compound, the sensation of being within the clouds for themselves an exhilarating and freeing one. She held onto Vision's hand as they soared, smiling whenever he glanced towards her, wondering to herself why they didn't do this more often in their free time.

They quickly realised on entering that they were the first ones back after the holiday, a fact which delighted Wanda even further. Their hands were still clasped together as they kissed, Wanda humming her contentment against Vision's mouth, unable to hide the joy that brimmed within her.

"I'm going to go change," she smiled as their foreheads rested, Vision's arms around her waist making her reluctant to leave.

"That is a good idea," he replied, leaving a soft kiss just beneath her ear.

"I won't be long."

By the time she had got back, wearing more comfortable clothes, Vision had phased into his own loungewear, which still looked ten times smarter than anything else. A fire was kindling nicely in the hearth that they liked to use when it was just the two of them, and he had made her a mug of hot chocolate which she sipped from with a satisfied sigh once he handed it to her.

"I enjoyed our trip," Vision said when they were curled on the sofa, the television playing in the background, "it was good to be with Tony, Pepper and Morgan for the holiday. I am glad that Clint and Laura were not offended by the decision."

They were careful about splitting their time between the respective families, with Wanda knowing that it was especially important for Vision to rebuild his bond with Tony. Having spent Thanksgiving with the Starks, they would head to the Barton ranch before New Year's Eve. They wanted to spend the rest of the holiday season just the two of them, given that it was the first since Vision had been revived – although the other Avengers would be around at the compound for Hanukkah – and were very happy that neither family had raised any objections to their plans.

"It was really nice, and it's always fun to be with Morgan," Wanda agreed, smiling at the fresh memory of the excitable little girl. "I just hope I didn't step on any toes with all the Hanukkah talk."

"That was certainly not the case."

While she wasn't sure that Tony and Pepper would agree, she always felt considerably better for Vision's reassurance.

"Given her age, it is natural for Morgan to be curious. Although we might also assume that curiosity is an ingrained personality trait assigned at birth with her parentage. Her first word may have well been the crudest of questions."

Wanda snickered, before placing her head against Vision's shoulder. "I'm glad she asked. It was nice to share all of that with her."

Morgan's genuine interest in her background had warmed her heart, and reinforced the notion that her identity mattered, was not something she should purge with the rest of her painful past. It was the first time that anyone had paid her such dedicated attention, since the ten years previous when Vision had wanted to learn and take her traditions to heart.

She lifted her head so that she could look into his eyes, her lips curving into a smirk as she did so.

"I kinda can't believe what you told her about Santa, though. You didn't stumble for even a second."

He flushed a little at the insinuation, though his words were composed when he spoke again.

"I believe that it was the right thing to say. She will view the world in fairly parallel terms for at least another two years, roughly, and so to suggest that you would not receive gifts, despite your religion, would imply that you are deficient in nature." He reached his arm out, touching a hand to her knee. "Such an implication could not be further from the truth. Perhaps I am biased, but I believe you are the best person in existence, and so deserving of many hundreds of gifts."

"Smooth talker."

She closed the gap between them quickly, draping her arms about his shoulders and pushing her body against his. Their kisses were languid, and Wanda relished taking her time, being certain that she could do this for hours. There was no greater joy she felt than to have his hands upon her, anchoring her, whilst the press of his lips to hers ignited sparks within.

One of his hands was threaded in her hair, and she murmured his name softly as he massaged her scalp, giving herself over to the blissful sensation.

"I could do with more of that," she uttered, smiling as they broke apart, her hand twined with his other.

"I would be more than happy to oblige."

Shivers danced the length of her spine at the deepening of his tone, desire fast taking over her senses.

He switched the television off, and all they were able to hear were each others' sighs and slightly laboured breathing.

"Shall we retire?" he asked, before slipping the neck of her sweater past her shoulder and planting a kiss there, a delicious taste of what was to come.

She shook her head as much as she was able while he dotted kisses to her neck, their gazes meeting hotly in the next moment.

"I think we ought to make the most of being alone," she responded, smiling and then gasping as his fingers met the bare skin of her stomach, inching beneath her sweater. "Oh, Vizh."

His eyes burned through her, and he smiled as she arched her back, responding with pure instinct to his touch.

"As we so rarely have the luxury, I must agree with you, my darling."

A most wonderful night passed, and they were afforded a lazy morning that stretched into the early afternoon, thankfully making themselves decent before Bucky arrived, followed closely by Sam and Peter. Scott was the last to arrive that evening, bringing Hope over too for a reunion dinner, though all of the reassembled Avengers remarked, aside from Vision, that they were still recovering from the respective feasts of Thanksgiving.

December moved quickly, with Hanukkah arriving almost quicker than Wanda had anticipated. It had seemed longer than a decade since she had observed it with Vision at the old compound, even though she had lost half of those years herself, but it made the return to what they had known so briefly all the sweeter. As they had then they lit the menorah in private, but opened out the other traditions to their housemates, with Bucky in particular enjoying the games and especially the sweet sufganiyot.

The holiday had not concluded when Nat called, something within Wanda freezing when she heard the familiar alert. She remembered what Steve had said all that time ago, about their duties not stopping for the holidays, but she wished that just for this year at least it wouldn't be the case.

Nat wasn't just checking in, as she had begun to foolishly hope. There was a mission, a pair of diplomats who had gone missing amidst a series of attacks in Costa Rica. It was likely there was some involvement by Hydra agents, though the abduction had been pinpointed to an underground unit who were planning further attacks against the government.

_"It's looking medium-scale, so not all of you are needed. Given the nature of the mission I consulted with Fury and suggested that we send Sam, Bucky -_

_Please,_ Wanda repeated in her head, begging with Nat as if she were able to hear her. As bad as she felt for wanting Peter or Scott to be called instead, she couldn't stop herself from being selfish.

_" – and Vision."_

She did her best not to let show how crushed she felt, reminding herself that it wasn't a betrayal. Vision had been on other missions separate from her since the 'new' incarnation of The Avengers had come into force, and on the previous occasions he had returned safe and completely unharmed.

She would always be waiting for something, which meant that her fear increased rather than diminished.

That evening she spent longer in front of the menorah, which was halfway lit, watching the flames sway. Vision stood faithfully at her shoulder; they had not spoken about Nat's message and his order, going about the rest of the day as they normally would. She knew it wasn't a healthy thing to do, yet at the same time she didn't want to face up to the extent of the chaos that lurked at the back of her mind, waiting to emerge with the least call of warning.

After the candles had burned for several minutes she lowered her head and clasped her hands together, uttering the same prayer that she did every night. This night, however, she added on another, and though she said it with a quieter voice she knew that Vision could hear her, as well as interpret her words, if he so wished.

He lay a gentle hand on her shoulder once she had finished, and she swallowed back her tears before she turned to face him.

"I would rather we were together," he said, causing her heart to ache with greater intensity. "As much as I like, admire and trust Captain Wilson and Sergeant Barnes, I always want you beside me in everything I do."

She felt her bottom lip begin to tremble, fighting a losing battle to keep her fears under control. She felt his eyes remaining upon her while she stared at the floor. After a matter of seconds rather than minutes her resolve crumbled and she began to weep.

"Wanda," his voice was devastatingly tender as he placed his hands upon her arms, "my darling."

Her sobs worked themselves out after a peak of a couple of minutes, and while she wiped a sleeve against one cheek, Vision swept his thumb over the tears that had collected upon the other.

"I'm being stupid."

"You could never."

He looked at her with such conviction and adoration that it both hurt and healed her. She wanted nothing more than to melt in his embrace, shut away the rest of the world and return to how it had been only a couple of weeks previous.

"It feels like it will never get any easier," she continued, shaking less and trying to breathe deeper. "I know that you can handle yourself, of course I do. I just…I get scared."

"I understand." His hands rubbed against her shoulders, his touch soothing. She would miss it terribly. "Perhaps we ought to reevaluate our status as Avengers."

She couldn't say that the thought hadn't crossed her mind, especially not in the last couple of months. At the same time she felt guilty for considering giving the prestigious role up, as though she would be betraying Pietro's memory in doing so.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. She gave herself another minute to wallow before straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. "We just have to take it mission by mission. And right now, I have to suck it up."

His eyes were full of concern and he held her close, hugging her to him for an absorbing minute.

"Let's do what we can not to think about it for now," he said, hands still stroking over her back, "we do not leave for another thirty six hours. I will be back as soon as possible."

"I hope it will be before Christmas." The thought hit her forcefully. "Oh god, Vizh, if you're not…"

"Please don't upset yourself, my love."

His hand caressed her cheek, swept her hair back from her face. He leant down to place the softest of kisses on her lips, and she kissed him back with the full strength of her emotion, clinging onto him as if he was going to depart the very next second.

When they broke their kissing she stayed holding onto him, and he smiled in understanding, agreeing silently that he would not stray far from her for that next day and a half.

"An early night might be wise," he said, kissing the top of her head. The candles that continued to burn threw their entwined shadows upon the wall.

"You always have the best ideas," she said, managing to smile for the first time since Nat had called.

She could have sworn that those thirty six hours passed in double speed. The Quinjet was waiting outside and she stood by the threshold, sleeves pulled down past her hands, unable to settle. Bucky was the first to emerge, ready to go. He hugged her, echoing Vision's promise that they'd get what needed to be done as swiftly as they could, without foregoing safety on any side. He also bid her to look after herself, adding that she should think about wearing at least another layer while it was getting to be so cold.

She had to wonder whether Vision had been passing on the messages, so as to seem that he wasn't being over-protective.

Sam came next, and while most of her was thankful for the order in which they had arranged themselves a small part tried convincing her that it would have been better if she could have got the most painful of farewells over with already.

"Hey," he uttered, "we've faced worse. This is going to be a piece of cake."

"Not what I need to hear, Cap."

He sprung a smile, his eyes filled with empathy. "I know. I also know that he doesn't want to leave you when you're upset."

She took a deep breath, pushing down the worst of what she felt for later. "I'm not going to cry. I swear."

"I believe you, Red."

Despite everything she managed the smallest of smiles.

"You'll look out for him," she heard how small and desperate her voice was, "both of you?"

"You know that when it's on, he's more badass than ten of Buck and I put together, right?"

She nodded, and yet the shadows did not dissipate from her mind. "Please, Sam."

"You got it." He threw one arm around her shoulder and then pulled her in tight. "We'll be there. Every step of the way."

She rested her chin on his shoulder for a few moments, feeling a little better now that she had the vow of Captain America.

When Vision strode towards her, golden cape flowing in his wake, pride did well within her. Yet it was not enough to overcome her anxiety, which pulsed in every nerve and fibre. She rushed towards him and he caught her immediately, enveloping her in his arms. She thought about how strong he was, reassured herself of his endurance.

His hands held her face as she looked up at him, smiling through fear. She couldn't let him leave feeling that he had failed her somehow, that he hadn't done enough to comfort her in the time they had had to prepare for this very moment.

"I will keep in touch."

Their mental link was something she would never take for granted, knowing how it had sustained her while she was near breaking point.

"And I will think about you every second that we are apart. I will hold you," he guided her left hand to the upper portion of his torso, " _here_."

"Vizh," her voice trembled, "I promised that I wasn't going to cry."

His eyes became a brighter blue as they looked deep into hers. "You are so very strong, my love. Your tears are proof of your strength."

She clung to him tighter, stretching to capture his lips with hers, trying not to think about how long it would be until she could kiss him again.

"Ya tebe kohayu," she said softly, her hand still pressed to his chest.

"I love you too."

She sniffed back her sobs, reminding herself that they had been through far worse. The worst that anyone could imagine.

Another minute longer, she told herself, trying not to count the seconds too closely.

"Go," she said, relinquishing her grasp of him, "before I can't let you go."

She watched each step he took, until the doors of the Quinjet shielded him, along with Sam and Bucky, from sight. She couldn't watch it take off to the skies, turning her back instead. Though she had the urge to run upstairs and bury herself beneath the covers of their bed she refrained from doing so, going instead to the common area. She sat down on the sofa, trying to stop herself from picturing Vision sitting beside her, and before too long Peter joined her, showing her the latest app he had played a part in developing.

She had great company in Peter and Scott, who did everything they could to cheer her up and take her mind off things simply by being themselves. Even if it was more than a little lame that they still insisted on calling themselves the _Bug Squad,_ and thought it was the coolest thing ever, when it really wasn't.

Vision stuck faithfully to his word, sending regular messages to assure her of their status and how the mission was progressing. She always wanted to keep him for longer, but didn't want to distract him from his duty if it meant that she was holding him up.

_It won't take much longer, will it?_

She shook her head upon the pillow, scolding herself for being so selfish.

_Sorry. I just want you back here so badly._

She felt a warmth surge towards her, filling the darkest depths of her mind with so much love and light.

_I don't think so. Captain Wilson is confident that the mission will be complete within approximately fifty eight hours._

She managed a small smile, thinking that was hardly approximate.

_Has it started to snow yet?_

_Not before it went dark. I don't think it has started since._

She could sense the smile that filled his face on her answer, could see how the glow of the stone shifted from crimson to a rosier light.

_Keep looking up. I hope to be back before the first snow begins to fall._

From the next sunrise, she found herself obsessively checking the sky, as well as the weather forecast.

Cassie stopped over at the compound most evenings after school, as well as the occasional weekend. Wanda was glad to have her around, and in turn Cassie was happy to have some female company, especially when it came to present shopping. She explained that she needed to buy gifts for her Dad, Mom, Hope and Jim, and while Wanda wasn't quite sure how much useful help she could offer, she was glad for the distraction. Cassie seemed fairly confident that she could get everything she needed in one trip, and New York City certainly wasn't short of stores.

Only one gift had been bought when they got to the corner store, which sat somewhere between a small department store and an upmarket-kind of thrift shop. While Cassie headed off in one direction, knowing what she was looking for, Wanda looked around a little aimlessly. There were a few things here and there that caught her eye, but nothing so special that made her feel compelled to buy it.

Nothing special enough for Vision.

She was near enough back to where she had started from when something stopped her in her tracks, the sight of it making her smile despite herself.

She was standing frozen in the same spot when Cassie tapped her on the shoulder, carrying three paper bags.

"All done," she announced brightly, "do you want to go grab a coffee or hot chocolate? Or we could just head back, I guess."

Wanda heard herself murmur incoherently, no kind of answer at all. She turned her head towards Cassie, who wasn't looking at her like she was a crazy person, but smiled kindly and patiently.

"What do you think about that?" She pointed to what had arrested her attention, watching Cassie keenly for her own gut reaction.

"The red one?" Cassie asked for clarification, and Wanda nodded. "I like it. It's cute."

She thought so too. A smile filled her face, at least for a few moments before she had another crisis of confidence.

"I suppose it's not very traditional."

Cassie wrinkled her nose in a small frown. "Traditional is boring. The Avengers are definitely not traditional."

She felt herself starting to smile again at Cassie's response. "That is true. I don't know if I brought money out with me…I didn't expect to be buying anything."

"I can pay," Cassie exclaimed, looping her arm around Wanda's, "I didn't spend all of my allowance."

"Cassie, no. I can't let you do that."

Her nose scrunched again. "And _I_ can't let you leave here without buying it."

Wanda shook her head as she felt in her pockets for her wallet. She was already consigning herself to leaving the shop empty-handed, and then she found something. Cassie's face erupted into an excited grin.

It wasn't as quite as easy as she had hoped – being on display and the only one remaining, the assistant had to take it to be boxed up. But he said that she could pay for it first, which was a relief. And in the meantime Cassie took her for another trip around the store, as it meant that other purchases had to be made.

Getting back to the compound was slow too, given the size of the box. They stopped several times along the way, Wanda feeling frustrated that the scale of the thing meant that she was unable to fly and bring Cassie safely along with her too.

At least their trip had been a productive one, and she was already excited by the prospect of getting everything ready.

They were within metres of the compound when Cassie stopped, eyes glued to the screen of her phone.

"Wow," she gasped, Wanda struggling to turn her head to look and keep walking in a straight line with the box that was pressed against the length of her body blocking her path. "Jim says there's a crazy snowstorm heading over in the next few hours."

Wanda almost dropped down on the spot, risking flattening the box and its contents.

"Okay," she said, turning enough to be able to address Cassie, "I'm going to need your help, because I'm not going to be able to get this done in one night."

As it turned out, Jim's prediction was off and it didn't snow that night or the next morning. But later that same day she received the message she had been hoping and longing for, so it had all worked out for the best.

She was content to stay pinned by the window for hours, anticipating the arrival. Scott brought her a sandwich and some water, and Peter brought her cookies and a blanket, promising her that they'd let her know as soon as there was a sign of the Quinjet touching down. She refused their offers, too superstitious of leaving her post.

She had waited far longer before; a few hours were nothing to her.

The spacious room was thrown into shadow and she inhaled, sensing him near.

_I can feel you, Vizh._

She was so excited that she felt like she might faint.

_We are outside and will be touching down in less than one minute. It feels too long to wait to be able to see you._

She flew to the door – figuratively if not literally – leaving the others to follow some way behind her. He was the first thing she saw, waiting and ready as the door opened, and hot tears of relief welled in her eyes as she made her way towards him, he gliding to her.

They met in a tight embrace, cradling one another as if each were the most precious thing in the universe. And they were, to each other.

The feeling of Vision's hands touching her made her whole body sing, her heart soaring upwards. She looked into his brilliant blue eyes, seeing everything she ever needed, her own soul reflected back to her.

She was vaguely aware of Sam and Bucky walking past, clapping their hands to Vision and then to her.

"Hey, lovebirds," she heard Sam say, though his voice sounded like a distant echo, "we'll catch up with you later."

Vision's hands moved up her body to cup her face gently, and she beamed against his palms, her own hands circling his wrists.

"You're alright?" she asked him, her voice holding a faint remnant of fear.

"I am fine," he replied instantly, "not a scratch. Physically, at least."

She nodded her head, understanding what he meant. Slowly her hands unfurled themselves and traced his shoulders, the slope of his spine underneath his cape. She could hear him sigh, very lightly, and smiled at the sound.

"I missed you," she said, pressing her forehead to his as he dipped down, feeling the warm pulse of the stone that she had activated with her scarlet energy, "so much."

She felt rather than saw him smiling, her eyes drifting closed then open again.

"I missed you too," he uttered, fingers catching the curve of her cheek as he tenderly swept her dark brown tresses back from off her face. "You are more beautiful than ever before."

"Vizh," she murmured, feeling overcome. Her hands found themselves back at the nape of his neck, her fingers stroking softly and sparking just the tiniest bit of scarlet at the tips. "prykhodʹ syudy."

She smiled in anticipation of feeling his lips against hers, their first kiss unfolding almost in slow motion, hands working in motion, working in tandem with the loving passion that passed between them before clasping tight together.

"I have something to show you," she said softly, tugging on the fingers that were twined with hers, "something that I hope you'll like."

She could see he was intrigued, but never doubting.

"I am certain that I will. I follow where you lead."

"We lead together," she smiled at him, falling into step by his side as they made their way up to their room.

It was difficult to keep their hands off each other now they were back together, and every few steps they paused to exchange sweet kisses, Wanda giggling against Vision's mouth. It was amazing how dramatically her mood had improved by having him back with her, but it was also entirely to be expected.

"Close your eyes," she said before they entered, her voice bright with excitement.

She could have levitated in order to cover them with her hands, but she wanted to be able to see the way his expression shifted as he discovered the surprise.

"Wanda," he murmured her name, curious rather than uncertain. She knew that he would do whatever she wished or asked of him, her heart aching at the fact.

"Trust me," she said, stroking her fingers against his and gazing up at him.

"Always," he responded.

In the next second the blue of his eyes disappeared, and she took a moment to simply stare at him before she guided him with her hands over the threshold, and then hastened to get everything ready, though it took less than a minute.

"Okay," she announced, arriving back at his side, "you can open them."

He opened his eyes slowly, his face displaying the wonder she had hoped for and far more besides as he took in the scene. The lights that adorned the red tree were of various colours, and their shine bounced onto the walls as they twinkled to and fro, making the room glow blue, then pink, then yellow. Almost every colour in the spectrum was visited.

Vision's gaze went back and forth, and the smile that graced his face was big and breathtakingly beautiful.

"Wanda, this is…I don't think there is an adjective to accurately describe how incredible it is."

She giggled again, holding her hand out towards his. "I'm glad you like it."

He linked his fingers with hers in the next second, causing her to smile even wider.

"Oh, I _love_ it," he said, the sincerity in his tone making her heart swell.

"I had help from Cassie and Scott. If it wasn't for Scott the lights wouldn't have been working at all. And Peter helped too, that's why there are strings of popcorn on there."

The baubles that Cassie had found at the store the same night that they bought the tree were covered with glitter, and they sparkled even more in the glow of the lights. Both of their Avenger baubles sat on the much bigger tree that was out in the common lounge area, but Wanda had kept Pietro's bauble aside and hung it near to the top of this tree especially for Vision and herself.

She wouldn't say as much to the others, but she much preferred the beauty of this slightly scruffy, mismatched tree. But it was Vision's opinion that mattered the most, and where his words failed the way he gathered her to him and kissed her soundly spoke volumes.

"I'm just so glad you got back in time," she said, holding onto him as they stood in front of the tree, "I don't care what holiday it is. All that matters is that we get to spend them together."

His smile was dazzling. Coupled with the tenderness of his touch as he caressed her cheek, it was all that she could have asked for.

"I agree."

He lowered his head towards her and they shared another kiss, the marvellous display of lights dancing all around them. Their soft glimmering fell especially brightly upon the yellow garnet which adorned the ring upon the third finger of Wanda's left hand, which she had worn proudly for the last two months, overjoyed when Vision asked her the question she had been dreaming of hearing for so long.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she beamed with a fresh surge of enthusiasm, crouching to reach for two boxes that she had stashed underneath the bed. "I saw them a couple of weeks ago and couldn't resist."

She watched as Vision opened the bow and lifted the lid from the box she handed to him, removing the tissue paper to unveil a sweater patterned with green, white and blue, featuring the outlines of pine trees, candy canes and other symbols associated with the season.

"Out of all the ones in the store that was the nicest and least silly one. You still have to retain your style, even if it's Christmas."

"It is very fetching," he said. He phased away his cape and then pulled the sweater over his head, standing with his arms held out to show it off.

"Well, I guess I better put mine on too," Wanda exclaimed, taking the smaller black and red sweater out of the other box and exchanging the hoodie she was already wearing for it. She pulled the hem down a little so that the pattern was more noticeable. "I figured I could get away with snowflakes, seeing as it does sometimes snow at Hanukkah."

"It looks beautiful. Perhaps you will make the snow arrive here."

"Maybe," she smiled. There was no great rush to look out of the window and check; right now she was far too occupied with other matters. "You're so handsome, Vizh. We should take a picture and save it for a holiday card next year."

"Oh, that would be good," he agreed, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. "I confess that I am already impatient for the months to pass."

She grinned, electricity running through her as he pressed several kisses below where her engagement ring sat. The summer seemed so far away, and part of her thought they should just elope at the first chance they got, each other being all they needed. But she didn't want to deny Vision the ceremony and celebration that he deserved, and they had already done enough running to last them a lifetime.

"Of course – that is not to say that I am not looking forward to this holiday season with you," he stumbled over his words slightly before his elegant lips began to curve into a smile. "I mean that I will be especially happy to be spending the time as your husband."

The thought alone thrilled her, making her heart beat faster. She was excited for their wedding, of course, but marriage and a life together was what really meant the world.

"And I can't wait to be your wife."

While she remembered to present the sweaters she forgot all about the bunch of mistletoe that Scott had presented to her while they decorated, grinning as he did so. It still sat at the side of the tree but its magic worked wonders silently, the besotted couple hardly needing it in their happy reunion.

They'd waited a long time for it, but this holiday was going to be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ukrainian/Sokovian translation:
> 
> Ya tebe kohayu = I love you
> 
> prykhodʹ syudy = come here
> 
> I thought it would be rather fitting to post the final chapter of this holiday fic on the first day of Hanukkah. Hopefully it's not fluff overload ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays! Although, does anyone want to skip 2020 and get to 2021 so WandaVision will be closer? (although I'm still rather scared about the prospect...)


End file.
